


Unravel Me, Cut Me Loose

by ThirthFloor



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Awesome Leia Organa, Ben Solo Angst, Ben Solo Deserved Better, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Flashbacks, Good Parent Han Solo, Han Solo Dies, Han Solo is a Good Person, Jedi Luke Skywalker, Jedi Training (Star Wars), Kylo Ren Backstory, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Leia Organa Deserves Better, Luke Skywalker Deserves Better, Luke Skywalker Dies, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, Luke Skywalker hates himself a little, M/M, Minor Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, No Beta we die like uhhhh Han Solo skdfjskld, Space Mom Leia Organa, Unrequited Love, and some comfort?, he is at peace when he dies, i cried while writing this so yeah, it was supposed to be an Old Luke character study and then turned into like 12 pages of me sobbing, that's pretty much where we are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29971353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirthFloor/pseuds/ThirthFloor
Summary: When Han died, Luke saw every second of it, felt every moment of it. He saw the corridor, the bridge so much like when he confronted his own father. He felt the falter of both Ben and Han’s hearts, how they beat briefly in sync for a final moment, and Luke felt his pulse match that dreadful pounding. Decades of… loss and pain struggling to rear up.Luke doubled over and tried to close his eyes against the sight, but the Force made him see.
Relationships: (mentioned) - Relationship, Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Luke Skywalker & Han Solo, Luke Skywalker/Han Solo, Unrequited - Relationship
Kudos: 14





	Unravel Me, Cut Me Loose

**Author's Note:**

> haha I started this as a warmup character study of Old Luke while I was taking a break from my calculus homework, and then it turned into me sobbing my way through my memories of the sequel trilogy, so... yeah. :(

The first time they had locked eyes, all sound washed away. The volume of the bar reduced to a thrumming mute, replaced by the pounding of Luke’s own heart in his ears. Danger, adrenaline, all of it still drummed high - and though Luke stuck out like a sore thumb, lost kid in a rough place like this, surrounded by other nobodies, desperation drove him. Desperation, that whisper in the back of Luke’s naive mind; the guidance of the Force that shone on the suave, nonchalantly charming man slouched inelegantly in his booth, that whispered  _ ‘He’s the one.’ _

That was the moment everyone - had they been privy to the deepest insights of Luke’s tightly bound emotion - would have predicted when the smuggler captured his heart. All those years ago, through the dusty, smoky air, innocent and confused and thrilled for adventure while unaware of future tragedy. It was perfect, though Luke hardly recognized it until too long had passed. 

Surprisingly, it had not been that moment, nor any subsequent moments where Han’s magnetism shone through. In actuality, the feeling that would linger with Luke his whole life changed him slowly, coming much later. An aggregation over weeks, months. Stolen moments on the Falcon, watching Han when no one was supposed to be looking, to see the way his brow furrowed and his slender nose scrunched  _ just so  _ in that way that Luke would adore forever. Tense, breathless moments on the run, pressed together in tight spaces or Han’s steadying hand on his back sending heat down his spine, grounding Luke’s fear and ambition all at once. Quiet talks over packaged food, or fires hardly worth their salt; hushed confidences, airy laughter or hums of pained understanding as they shared memory after memory, story after story of their dramatically different origins. 

It was always the little moments with Han that made Luke stop to wonder. 

_ “I’m not the kind of guy for this job, kid. I’m not good. Sure, I’m not a fan of massive, oppressive regimes or any of that kriffing imperialist shit, but that doesn’t mean I’m some hero. That just means I’m a normal, sane person who don’t want any trouble.” _

_ “I think you undersell yourself, Han,” Luke had smiled encouragingly, and that wrinkle in Han’s brow slipped away. Solo sighed in defeat and tilted his head back, hair flipping up from his forehead with the lengthy exhale.  _

_ “How can you do that, Luke? Say one damn thing and suddenly I’m tripping over myself. I’m telling you, I’m probably not the whole package for this job. But…” _

_ Luke frowned, stepping closer then, despite wanting to grin in triumph at getting his way once again. “Han, don’t be scared. We’ve got your back, okay? You can do this. I know you can, and we need you.”  _

_ “I know you do.” Han looked at him with that easy smirk, that slip of a smile that made everything alright.  _

And there it was again. That blinding optimism of Luke’s, the tingle in his heart and the tickle in the back of his mind that whispered  _ he’s the one.  _ He’s the one the Rebellion needed. He was the one Luke needed; Han Solo was the friend, the pilot, the smuggler and the leader all in one. They needed  _ Han _ , they all did. Luke would never give up on that, in for the long run from the first moment he’d glimpsed an inkling of that honest insecurity. It was so… special. 

What they had, in those moments together, was theirs. It was special. 

But then, he had gone with Leia. Slipped away in a moment, and Luke should have known right from the start. It should not have been the surprise that it was, the shock that sent an icy weight to his gut and a burn like a blaster hit right to his chest. He should have seen it coming, if only to prepare himself for inevitable heartbreak - a disappointment beyond anything Luke had ever experienced in his still then short life. 

But that young love, that very optimism that had founded such a thing was what blinded him. His own awkward excitement around Leia, the thrill of finally finding friends, family he belonged with, those he loved and felt safe with, and the stress of finding himself had all culminated to form a wall that kept the young Skywalker so blissfully ignorant. At the end of every day, he had been so relieved to be safe with his sister, with Han, their friends and the others they inspired, suffered, and triumphed with that he had so utterly and completely  _ missed  _ what blossomed between Han and Leia when Luke wasn’t there to see. 

He had seen the flirting and witty exchanges, remembered them well, sure - but Han was just  _ like  _ that. He had even done the same with Luke.

Right? When he’d returned in the aftermath of the Battle of Yavin, stressed and buzzing and completely in shock of what they had accomplished, Han had been the first to greet him. Full embrace, foreheads touched together, breathless.  _ “You did it, kid, by the gods, you did it. Holy hells, you’re incredible.”  _

It was not the same as the low tones, the smooth way he murmured to Leia or sharp quips they exchanged, but it was an intimacy he’d seen Han attribute to no other. Luke cherished each and every single word, look, breath and touch. It was not the same, but it was  _ theirs _ . For the longest time, that was enough. 

It happened over and over again. Hoth, Endor, dozens of other little planets and moons and systems in between. Han would save Luke from a bind, or Luke would sense his danger and rush to his aid with newfound skill, prowess, confidence and determination brought forth from his training. And Han would tease him,  _ “You’re too reckless, Luke, one day it’s gonna get old.”  _

_ “You always come for me, though. And you know I’ll do the same for you without a thought. So, what’s the big deal? _

_ “The big deal is one day I’m not gonna be able to keep up, then what? Then who’ll come to rescue the Hero of the Galaxy, huh?” _

_ “Huh, guess we’ll just have to stick together from now on. Lucky me.” _

_ “Don’t pretend that’s a bad thing for you. For me, maybe.” _

_ “Hey!” _

Han teased, argued, refused - but it was always with that easy half-smile, that little curl of his lips that made Luke’s chest hurt and head spin. There was something there, and he knew it. At least, there had been. He had hoped there was. In the end, Luke was forced to admit that he was never certain, as much as he wished it, as much as he convinced himself with that same faultless optimism. 

Despite his every effort to protect his heart’s weakness, it had hit him like a brick when Han and Leia’s engagement was announced. 

Luke had smiled when they told him, but only because his face couldn’t move. Every muscle in his body felt frozen, stiff, snapshotted in his last moment of true happiness before his boyish, lofty dream was shattered. Only it had not felt foolish. For so long, it had not felt too out of reach. 

Yet, in that moment, that brief exchange of words - hardly seconds, a half a breath of air, maybe - Luke Skywalker realized that no matter what he was, Jedi Master, Hero of the Rebellion, Savior of the Galaxy, there would always be a part of him that would remain that farm boy from nowhere, Tatooine. A nobody who happened to run into the perfect stranger for the right moment. There was never a chance after all, was there?

The Force had decided that from the start. Luke and Han had only met so that Han could one day meet Leia, and they could save the future together. The three of them, then the two of them; for the Force called Luke elsewhere, to the restoration of its closest servants. It had been decided before Luke even set eyes on Han that they were never meant to be in the way Luke wistfully dreamed for years. 

Luke smiled, though his heart was broken. And soon after the announcement, even sooner following the ceremony, he departed to seek out the ancient, precious knowledge of the Jedi. That was what he claimed, at least. Something drove him then, something ineffable and inexplicable, but that which he trusted all the same as he had learned with the Force in the past. Though, decades later upon reflection, Luke recognized how he lied to himself; in those early days, the young Skywalker was less seeking the guidance of the old Order and more desperately running to steady his own beating heart, to find a solace and comfort in the mapped out destiny provided by the past. A task that led him through and across the galaxy, an almost aimless, mystical journey only to busy himself, to  _ accomplish  _ and  _ build  _ a place for himself in the future. 

Working, building, failing and learning and failing again, Luke eventually built a substantial school, the start of one at least. He met a Mandalorian, one of gentle demeanor who stayed at his side for some surprising length of time that resulted in a blissful swing that almost -  _ almost  _ \- distracted him from his greatest heartbreak. But Din had needed to leave, to fulfill some generations old tradition just as Luke was bound to pursue as well. 

_ “I don’t exactly… want to go. I’m sorry, Luke.” _

_ “It’s alright,” Luke chuckled sadly. He tried not to let the tug of his heartstrings compel his mind to distraction, for soon he would need to wake the children for meditation and get on with the day. Plus; his life lacking in attachments was bound to begin sometime, however much Luke tried to prolong it. “I’m used to it.” _

_ Din sighed from behind his helmet, the modulator making the sound flat but nonetheless remorseful. “Can’t see why. I enjoyed my time with you, and you’re great with the kids. But um… I always knew this wouldn’t work out, for one reason or another.” _

_ “Yeah…”  _

_ “I have to go. And you’ve got some destiny that I won’t pretend to understand. And of course there’s, um… Han.” _

_ Luke startled, eyes growing slightly wider. They had never mentioned Han, at least to the personal extent. Luke had told Din about his sister, and of course their adventures and missions, but… Never much about Han. He tried not to think of it. “What?” _

_ Din shifted awkwardly, shuffling his feet in that way he did when he wasn’t bothered but more eager to get on with his work than keep up the small talk. “You said his name in your sleep. A couple times. It’s okay, don’t worry. I never minded.”  _

_ It took a moment to find his voice. “I’m sorry, Din.” _

_ “Luke, really, it’s alright. He’s important to you, he’s… family. I respect that more than you know.” _

_ “You’re… too good to me, Din. You will do well for your people. May the Force be with you, and all of Mandalore.” _

_ “Thank you. Ret'urcye mhi.” _

After that sweet farewell, Luke once again faded into the thrills and monotony of teaching, all in itself. Slowly, everything numbed to a dullness, swathed in the calm of purpose and the Force’s teachings, and Luke found only meaning in his school. It came to be just as cherished, if not more, than any companionship, any singular bond. 

Then, Han and Leia had their first child. A beautiful child, funny and bright with eyes dark enough to reflect the galaxy above them in all its wonder. Luke instantly felt love for young Ben, a bond that only grew the older the child became. The careful way the boy handled anything placed in his tiny hands, the respect and curiosity those big eyes regarded anything and everything with, the  _ imagination  _ and fervor he used to regale his parents and uncle with stories unlocked a piece of Luke’s heart, the truly paternal instinct that had been missing from his teaching this whole time. And that protectiveness, that instinct to do well only increased when little Ben proved to be Force-Sensitive, causing Luke’s heart to lurch to the test again.

Han and Leia brought his ten year old nephew to him, still so fresh in his life and still their only child. They  _ trusted  _ Luke enough to take him into his care, trusted his knowledge and teaching of the old ways to give up their baby boy to Luke’s guidance. A responsibility, a weight that - despite all Skywalker had done, the dangers he’d faced and the challenges he’d overcome - still felt like the biggest hurdle yet. It terrified him.

Of course, Luke accepted; it was undoubted, both by those who knew him so deeply like his sister and her husband, and himself most ultimately - he would do anything for his family. The entire  _ galaxy  _ probably knew that by now. Even the old Force Ghosts of past masters who warned of fear of loss and the complexities of attachments were aware that nothing could stop Luke’s love and priority for his family. 

After all, he was the Jedi Grandmaster now; it was up to Luke Skywalker alone to usher in the New Order as he best saw fit, as the Force whispered its ways to him so mysteriously. 

_ “Luke,” Han put his hand on Luke’s shoulder, squeezing as he led him a few paces away from where Leia made certain Ben had everything he needed. The sound of her tender but inspiring goodbyes softened as the two men moved to stand in the shade of a nearby tree, thousands of years old and holding many more secrets than these.  _

_ Han continued, “I don’t pretend to know half of what you know, half of… this burden. But - take care of my boy, will you? I feel like I haven’t said it enough to Ben, but now that we’re letting him go… It wouldn’t do good for me to get too sappy all of a sudden.”  _

_ Despite his denial of the time to get emotional, Solo took a moment to clear his throat and glance over his shoulder, and Luke’s heart clenched painfully in his chest. He’d witnessed enough of Han’s few lapses in charisma and cool to know this expression, this undoubtable gesture of care and kindness. Luke had been certain, some time ago when their travels were still young and they were still learning , that these looks had been reserved for him alone. That notion was soon corrected with observation.  _

_ They were for all of Han’s family, not just Luke alone. Especially not Luke alone.  _

_ “What would you like me to tell him?” Slowly, not to break this spell under the quiet rustling of the tree leaves, Luke raised his gloved hand to clasp lightly over Han’s calloused one; again, marks that Luke knew quite well.  _

_ Han sucked in a breath and turned his eyes back to Luke, that hazel shade reflected in that of his son’s catching an entirely new light in this glance to Luke’s bright blues. The intimate, honest love of a father, expressions rarely imparted to their child save in the most brutally genuine moments. Distantly, Luke recalled the brown eyes of a different father, and sucked in a breath at the memory of the day that man gave up his little boy as well. Luke felt the weight of the world compress his lungs and snag his heart.  _

_ “He means the world to me, Lule. I need you to show him that he’s worth everything, that he can do anything. Have Ben grow up with more self-respect than I did.” _

_ Luke shook himself from his thoughts and pulled his lips taught in that brilliant smile, and relief flooded his tense shoulders when Han softened to return the expression. “I will, Han.” _

Because Luke had been trusted with their baby boy; with the part of Han that the man was proudest of. Still young himself, but weathered and wise, Luke was trusted with something so precious and fragile. The future of Solo and Skywalker, and the Order itself. A balance was to be made, and Luke swallowed past the emotion that swelled and hurt and threatened tears at his eyes as he stared at Han. As he held Ben’s hand while the Falcon roared to life and streaked goodbye across the sky in one of the last times he’d ever glimpse it. 

If it had been him instead of Leia, Luke allowed selfish thoughts to creep in when he was truly alone, Ben wouldn’t exist. Luke could never take that for granted; he loved Ben like his own son. This boy was the part of Han that Luke could take care of. Damn the desire and the wishing and the whispered  _ what-if’s _ ; this was the present, and this was his role now. Another title to add to the ever growing list of Luke’s destined challenges and achievements. 

But this time, a consequence well overdue in his history of impossible successes, Luke Skywalker had failed. 

He had failed in protecting that  _ one  _ thing, in keeping the  _ one  _ promise that Han had sworn him to on that day, on one of the very few times they had seen each other since then. Luke had failed Han, he had failed Leia, and most painful of all - a guilt that burned and rotted and poisoned his each and every passing, living day. 

Their child did not know how cherished he was - he  _ couldn’t  _ know, because Luke had been too selfish, too blind, too weak, too wrapped up in the tickling remnants of silver threads of the past to brush them aside and see where his focus should lie. Luke had not been enough. He had not done enough, and not only did Ben…

_ Not anymore, for Han’s son had died. And Luke had been the hand that dealt that fate.  _

… Not only had that boy been failed, but he had been failed in the most unforgiving, brutal of ways; handed over to the Dark Side from blindness and negligence, and failure of his trusted master. A legacy repeated, it seemed all too cruel. 

Consequences dealt in his penance though, Luke’s failure of that boy tearing apart everything he had ever built. Dozens others -  _ children  _ and adults alike - slaughtered, ancient temples centuries survived obliterated, the Jedi way crashing down once again. It only made sense that Luke’s first failure be his last, his most damning, his final reckoning. 

Worse yet, in the aftermath, when the smoke cleared, Luke could not even bear to tell them. He had not even the strength for that, coward as he had become. 

He told Leia only. She had felt it, he knew that truth, so she would be the most prepared - the most understanding. She knew of Ben’s strayed path before Luke even told her, so telling the bare minimum,  _ glossing the truth _ , proved to be easiest. 

Luke could not tell Han. His heart could not take another loss, and he was lucky of the amity his sister beheld to spare him through her commanding, unwavering strength. He feared what more damage he could cause by confessing to Han himself. He feared the reaction, the inevitable hatred he would see in those eyes. Once again, Luke found himself being selfish, and afraid. 

And so, without another word to the man he loved, who he’d let down once again, Luke retreated into exile. 

Years later still, Luke was dealt another drowning wave of punishment; that which he knew he was well-deserving of, but one which he could never in his darkest dreams and visions have prepared for. Even at his strongest, Luke would be crippled by the pain.

When Han died, Luke saw every second of it, felt every  _ moment  _ of it. He saw the corridor, the bridge so much like when he confronted his own father. He felt the falter of both Ben and Han’s hearts, how they beat briefly in sync for a final moment, and Luke felt his pulse match that dreadful pounding. Decades of… loss and pain struggling to rear up. 

Luke doubled over and tried to close his eyes against the sight, but the Force made him see. 

He saw as Han looked at his son, and saw Luke’s failure - the failure of all of them = to cherish his boy as what he could have become. Luke saw with awe, with love, and with horror as Han tried one more time, even though the bastard knew this was the end. Han reached out, because deep down, he  _ was  _ a good man. Cast aside everything he had always said in refutation of the fact, Han Solo was a  _ good  _ man, who cared and loved deeper than anyone Luke had ever compared to. 

Who could have held one more ounce of love, had Luke ever possessed the courage to tell him the truth. 

Luke Skywalker saw his failure, the Sith he created, cut down his own father and the man Luke loved Luke felt the betrayal that Han felt, but the quiet resignation of it all shattered him through and through. The betrayal and the surprise of how their story came to a close, a failure to forge a future together.

And selfishly,  _ so  _ selfishly, dammit after all these years Luke was still  _ so  _ selfish, and he thought again of how if it had been  _ him  _ with Han, Ben would not have come to be. Kylo Ren would have not come to be. 

But that was not fair, not even close. Ben Solo was Han’s son, everything good and pure and harboring only the sweetest heart and brightest future. But the man who murdered his father, that was Kylo Ren, whom Luke had created.  _ This was no one’s fault but his own.  _

Luke felt the silver thread he’d clung to for almost forty years slip through his fingers and become one with the energy of the sky and galaxy around them. He felt Leia, her sharp intake of breath and the sorrowful close of her eyes as her tied knot on that same thread slipped loose. She had the knot, but they both were forced to let go as Han slipped away. 

And he still had not recovered in full when he was found. Luke felt Ben’s presence surrounding the girl that sought him out on his island. Their bond - whatever it may be - was strong enough that there were moments Luke was sure she was speaking to him. Luke was plagued with reminders, and longed for the Force to guide him if only blissfully to his end. 

It made him bitter, the constant, lingering reminder of his failure. But, once again, Luke accepted that it was as he was deserving. Years had plagued him of such knowledge, so what was this but another whisper? The truth rarely came kindly. He carried on, and tried not to think of Han.

He hardly regarded the Falcon, much less daring to wander that junk’s passages, sit in that cockpit or at that table. To see Han’s room, his trinkets, memories of him and their time littered throughout that ship that they had all secretly called  _ home _ . 

_ Home  _ was only where loved ones waited. Luke’s home was so far beyond any physical plane now. He meditated each and every day, but knew something rooted him here still. It was not quite their time. He could be patient another bitter day. 

That day came sooner than he anticipated. Luke came to Leia one more time, in her hour of need. Together, always. Quietly and in a shared moment of breath, a gasp in the Force in all too brief a moment. He had faced them, everything he had done and created, the memories as his apparition stood before an army. Protecting that girl, her friends, his sister. 

_ But now, he stood before Leia herself. To apologize, to say goodbye, anything and everything. He looked at her and she saw him, and she smiled so sadly - always the strongest.  _

_ “I loved him, too.” Luke finally confessed, breathing in utterance something he had kept inside since the moment the thought formed all those years ago. Speaking them aloud, if only for the two of them, he felt his aura slip one more step to completeness. The feeling washed over him once again, regret drifting away as simply as dust in the wind. The truth had come. _

_ “I know,” Leia replied, and Luke closed his eyes then. One last time, his heart tugged in his chest, but everything was growing so quiet and so soft. Even this pain felt obsolete.  _

_ It was time to go, to let these attachments behind. Leia was alright, so he would be alright, too. The kid would be alright. Everyone would be alright.  _

_ “He loved you too. In his own way.” _

_ And that affirmation was all he needed to finally let go. The snip of scissors to cut through Luke’s unresolved, tangled, messy knot of his own, one that was tied somewhere they could not find. His golden thread of life fizzled into a peaceful blue. He smiled at his sister, not frozen but grateful, and faded into nothing. _

_ Han would greet them soon; he didn’t like to be kept waiting. Luke would feel young again, and would run to him.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Leave a comment if you enjoyed - I respond to each and every one!
> 
> I'm not crying, YOU are!!! I love taking my comfort characters and then just destroying my own heart with their canon lives. AHHHH. Anyways. I'm weeping always. FUck, now I gotta go do my calc homework though... hnng. 
> 
> Lol anyhoo, follow me on social media!! Twitter @thirthfloor, Tumblr @aegir-emblem or @bimbolorian !!!


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